


The Best Gift In Life...

by DragonRose35



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eggsy is Excalibur, Fix-It, Fluff, Harry Hart Lives, Harry is Arthur, Hurt/Comfort, James Spencer Lives, M/M, Male Slash, Percival Needs a Hug, Roxy is Percival and James' Adopted Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRose35/pseuds/DragonRose35
Summary: ...is a second chance. And Percival? He’s a firm believer of them and he was happy when Eggsy and Harry- God bless them- got theirs.But then… he couldn’t help but think- where was his?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay now, I obviously changed a few things cause, yeah, Harry Hart lives- fuck all if he doesn’t- and also James is alive and very obviously not cut in half.
> 
> I think, since there is a happy ending, you might just be inclined to forgive me for altering the movie script just a bit, yeah?
> 
> Also, I never expected to write a Kingsman fic- and if I did, it would be a Hartwin fic cause I'm total trash for them- but this idea just... refused to leave me alone until I wrote it.
> 
> So... enjoy~?
> 
> ~ D.C.

He could hardly believe that after everything that had happened, it was all finally over. He was relieved, of course- V-Day, and the days leading up to and since the whole massacre, had been truly awful, but… the entire year before it had almost been just as taxing. For the recruits, for Harry, but… especially for him. For Percival.

He could sympathise with Eggsy- the kid didn’t accept Galahad’s position, but then, he wouldn’t accept any new code name after being finally accepted into Kingsman after saving the world- because he knew what it was like to lose someone dear to you. Someone you loved. The grief was nigh impossible to live with- the guilt that came with it even more so. But he couldn’t offer any words of comfort- couldn’t tell him it would get better. After all, how could he when his heart was still broken from the loss of his own loved one?

Of his best friend and lover- his husband, James Spencer.

Even now, a year later, it tore at him to know that James- the former Lancelot, before their beloved adopted daughter, Roxy, took his position- had died in the frozen wasteland of Argentina, torn into pieces by that violent witch, Gazelle. If he tried hard enough, he could still summon the anger he felt towards her- and the situation- but she was dead… Eggsy killed her. In the end, there wasn’t any reason more to feel any anger over the unfairness of it all.

It was weeks though, after V-Day, when the impossible happened- Merlin told them all, stricken, that Harry was  _ alive _ .

It was all Percival and Roxy could do to keep Eggsy from collapsing in on himself with the relief and when Harry was returned- from America- to London, his  _ home _ , and to Eggsy… Percival was ashamed to admit that he felt angry and jealous. Eggsy and Harry both had a second chance. And him? He had  _ nothing _ .

-0-

Percival sat on his bed in his personal chambers at the Kingsman Headquarters, torn between frowning and smiling at a single photograph he held lovingly in his hands, his thumb brushing back and forth gently over the face of his beloved. He would give anything for James to be there with him. Would go to Heaven and Hell if only just to-

Choking on his breath, Percival set the photograph on the bed, scrubbing harshly at his face, wiping away the infernal tears he’d thought had long since been dried. He spent months crying for James when he learned of what had happened- he could hardly believe he had any tears left after that.

“Dad…?” Percival jerked his head up when he heard Roxanne’s voice and he swallowed hard, discreetly brushing away the remainder of his tears as he smiled- though it was strained- at his daughter.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the edge to his voice and his heart broke a little when he saw the completely shattered look on her face when she saw the photograph. “Oh honey… come here.” he held out his arms and she moved wordlessly over to him, letting the door close behind her with an inaudible click. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he hugged her tightly to him, rubbing one hand down her back in a calming gesture and he kissed her temple, just beneath her hairline.

“Will it ever get easier…?” she sniffled, asking the question in such a small voice and Percival swallowed again, trembling just a little himself.

He couldn’t answer though, because he didn’t know, so instead he whispered sweet nothings to her and said, “Whatever happens, love, you still have me. Okay? I’m not ever going to let you go…” he whispered and she nodded her head, tears soaking his shirt where she had her face buried against it, hidden from the world outside of their little bubble.

“I love you, Daddy…” she told him and his grip around her tightened just a little as his eyes drifted to gaze at the photograph- of him, James, and a little four year old girl, Roxy. The day they adopted her.

“I love you too,” he murmured back, turning away from the picture and offering all the comfort he could to his-  _ their _ \- still grieving daughter.

-0-

Harry became Arthur and Eggsy took the- exceedingly odd- codename, Excalibur. But then, maybe it wasn’t that odd in the end- Eggsy and Harry worked together flawlessly, as if they were made for each other. Guinevere and Arthur- in the olde times- were never like that, not fully. It was these thoughts that made Percival just a little guiltier, for thinking such cruel thoughts about Eggsy and Harry having found their second chance.

Everyone had to do their fair share to bring the Kingsman back to what it had been, before everything went… ‘tits up’, as Eggsy has expressed it more than once. And if Percival took more than that, to keep himself busy, then who was anyone- save Arthur, Merlin, and Excalibur- to know?

-0-

The mission started as well as any mission does- it was supposed to be a simple extraction. Get in, rescue the informant and the two captured agents inside the warehouse, then get out and get them all to safety. If it happened to be a thousand miles from where James’ mission took him, well… Percival felt inclined to ignore that fact and instead decided to send Arthur a carefully worded complaint after he was done.

The warehouse was a couple of miles from the nearest city in the middle of Fuck Knows Where, Chile- Percival was sure the details of the mission were somewhere in the back of his mind, but he cared little about them other than his objective.

It was easy to take out the guards guarding the entrance into the warehouse and even easier to disable the security to the rest of the building and the surrounding area. He’d managed to get to the room where the agents- and informant- were being held captive, rescued them, and got them all out of there safe and sound.

The next part was what Percival dreaded, spending a hour  _ walking _ towards the city with the injured agents and the- exceedingly irritating- informant trailing behind him.

He was far beyond relieved when they made it and barely managed to curb the desire to tranquilize the informant to shut him up, as they made their way to the hotel where they would be staying the night before making their way to the extraction point. Leading the agents to their room, he stayed just long enough to make sure they were patched up well enough, and to make sure they could keep a well enough eye on their still bickering informant, before heading off.

“Where are you going, exactly, Percival?” one of the agents had followed him to the front desk and he sighed, looking back at her with a weary gaze. He hadn’t needed to say anything, however, and her expression softened before she reached out and rested a light hand on his shoulder, squeezing once, before letting go, “Be back soon- you need the rest just as much as myself and Mordred.” she told him and he nodded, relenting.

“I promise, Morgana, I won’t be long,” he smiled reassuringly at her and she smiled back, before slipping back towards the rooms, letting him slip out of the building in turn.

Turning off his glasses, he took them off and pocketed them, no longer wishing to converse with anyone at Headquarters- let alone his nearly incompetent handler, Valiant. Making his way out into the bitter cold, he took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out, along with all of the tension from the previous few days.

He walked through the streets, ignoring the civilians that past by him, bundled up and minding their own, like the world hadn’t gone to Hell a month ago. That was fine with him, though- he wanted to be alone. And that’s exactly what he would get out here. It was fitting, really- the loneliness he felt.

And while, yes, he had his daughter… it wasn’t the same as it would be if it was his husband there. Not that he would trade it… as awful as that sounds. He would never be able to choose between Roxy and James. He loved them both equally, and would- would  _ have _ \- done  _ anything _ to protect them both. He only wished… he had the chance to do so.

Percival blinked tears from his eyes at the black thoughts and shivered, pulling his waistcoat tighter across his chest, sighing softly, before pausing, frowning, when he saw a small building- nondescript, but the sign was what made him pause.  _ ‘Tortel Infirmary’ _ Such a small thing for a city like this, but then, he shouldn’t be all that surprised- way out here… things were harder to get than somewhere like England or America.

He felt drawn to it though- for reasons he couldn’t explain, even to himself.

Without prompting, his weary feet made their way, leading him, to the entrance of the small hospital. With only a small bit of hesitation, he went inside, just a little happy to be out of the cold, but still he had no idea why he was even here in the first place. There was barely anyone in the lobby- only an old man suffering from a cold and a small woman and an equally small, but surprisingly quiet, child. It was… depressing.

There was a tall woman, bundled in a cloak, behind the receptionists desk and he swallowed hard when she looked up at him, smiling, though it was strained. “Hi, do you have an appointment?” she asked him and he blinked slowly, shaking his head. “Oh? Are you here to visit family then? I’ve never seen you before, if you pardon my inquiry.”

“I-...” he cut himself off, unsure what to say, and he mentally cursed himself, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to come inside. “I’m sorry, I-” he swallowed hard. “I was just… coming in from the cold…” he told her, tense and rigid. “I’ll be on my way-”

“Sir…! Sir! Get back here!” Percival’s head snapped up when he heard the rough American accent of a man shouting at someone beyond the open double doors leading farther into the small building. It clearly belonged to the doctor in the white coat that was chasing after a stray patient- a man, pale and sickly, with only one arm and bandages, all over, from what Percival could see. “You’re not well enough to leave! Heaven forbid you go out in the cold  _ again _ -” the doctor finally caught up with the patient and Percival frowned, realizing this isn’t the first time said patient has tried to escape the small hospital.

But he shouldn’t care. He was already intruding enough as it was, but… “Is there… a problem?” Percival stepped up, when he saw the patient struggling against the doctor- wordless, but not soundless- and then suddenly it was as if time has stopped.

“What? Oh, no, no, good sir. Not a problem at all,” the doctor said, but Percival wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. No, his attention was now on the dull, but vivid- and extremely familiar- hazel eyes, staring right back into his own- surely lackluster- brown.  _ Chocolate honey… _ is what James used to call them, every time he would mention how beautiful they were. “Sir?”

The man- the  _ patient _ …- had ceased his struggling, but that meant in no certain terms that he was ready to go back to his room, Percival knew. “P-Pe-erc...y…?” he choked out, his voice sounding broken and rough- like it hadn’t been used in months… perhaps longer. And judging by the shocked expression on the doctor’s face- and by how he immediately let the man go- Percival would bet every last pound he owned that he was right.

He wished that the doctor hadn’t let him go though, because that meant he lost his balance- and if it hadn’t been for Percival, he would have fallen right to the ground instead of into the broken-hearted man’s arms. Percival couldn’t speak though, shocked into silence, even as he listened to the man, to  _ James _ \- oh  _ God,  _ James…!- speak his name, broken and hushed and pained, over and over.

“Good Heavens… whoever you are, my good man, you must be truly special…” the doctor spoke again, finally, and Percival choked on his breath, closing his eyes. “The poor man hadn’t spoken a word since he was brought here.”

-0-

“I see. Well, Mr. Morton… I’m afraid what you want to know might not be what you want to hear. Mr. Spencer, was it?” the doctor asked, nodding to James’ sleeping form- he was curled up against Percival, half in his lap, as he promptly refused to let go of the poor stricken agent. Not that Percival wanted to, either, after finding out that, somehow- against all odds- James had survived what had happened to him.

“Spare me, please, Dr. Bradford. Just… tell me what happened to my husband,” Percival didn’t ask. Not again and the good doctor sighed, nodding his head.

“Of course. Well, Mr. Spencer suffered quite a bit before he was brought here, to Tortel from the mountains a little ways from here. A couple of hikers found him, about a year ago, brought him to a small town near where he was found before he was eventually transferred here. Lost a massive amount of blood and suffered from severe head trauma. His arm had been severed, though we can’t seem to figure out how or why, and he’d been shot, several times- once in his left leg and twice in his chest. They’ve all healed up quite nicely, without any lasting damage, but because of the head trauma, and the time he’d no doubt spent lost in the frozen snow, the damage that was done to him, mentally, never quite healed.

“He’s had frequent, very violent nightmares the past year. He hasn’t spoken a word, though he’s hardly been  _ silent _ ,” the doctor sighed and Percival flinched, his grip tightening around James with the implication, “and he’s tried, several times to escape. As you’ve… witnessed.”

Percival nodded and closed his eyes tightly, brushing his lips against James’ matted hair, breathing in his scent- mixed with the smell of hospital and that little tang of blood and grime.

“We would have contacted someone sooner, but… as you now know, we had no idea who he was. Nor if he had any family.” the doctor paused there and adjusted his stethoscope. “I can’t imagine what the past year has been like for you, Mr. Morton. Thinking that your husband was dead… but I know for a certainty now, that things will get better. After all, you have a second chance. And that’s not something that many people ever get with their loved ones.” the doctor smiled, failing to note the hitch in Percival’s breath at his words and he chuckled to himself. “I’ll leave you both now, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me, alright?”

He left, without waiting for Percival to nod his head in affirmation, the agent too lost in his thoughts anyway, to manage just that.

His mind was stuck on the words,  _ second chance _ , and he realized with sudden clarity that that was exactly what this was. James survived Argentina- survived that wretched  _ woman _ , Gazelle… just as Harry had survived Kansas and a bullet to the head from that insane, genocidal maniac, Valentine.

Tears slipped down his cheeks and he choked on his air as he finally understood what that meant.

James was  _ alive _ . And Percival will be damned if he let anything happen, now that he had his beloved back in his arms again.

-0-

Percival sent the agents- because he was still on a mission- and the informant that was quite mysteriously quiet- and very loopy- towards the extraction point. But he refused to follow them, and sent them back to London with only a carefully worded message for Arthur, telling him not to worry about him and that he would return in due time.

He didn’t want them to know about James. Not yet.

For once… he wanted to be selfish- even if that selfishness was to cost their daughter the knowledge, for now, that her Papa was most definitely alive.

He stayed beside James the entire time they stayed in Tortel and Percival helped the doctors as best as he could to see James recovered smoothly. The doctors and the nurses all thought it a miracle, how quickly James recovered with Percival at his side, but Dr. Bradford and Percival knew different.

“He loves you,” the doctor chuckled, smiling when he saw Percival smile lovingly down at the, once again, sleeping agent. “Though I must say, I’ve never seen a man so in love as you are with him. He is lucky to have you by his side.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, doctor,” Percival murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from James’ face.

“Oh?” the doctor inquired, smirking only a little, as he knew very well what Percival was going to say, as sappy as it was-

“It is I that am lucky to have him,” -and he was right. Chuckling quietly, the doctor only shook his head before leaving them to his other duties once more.

-0-

“Will you be quite alright?” the doctor asked as he watched Percival lead and slightly unbalanced, but ultimately better, James towards the car that the doctor had procured for them. “It’s quite a long journey back to London.”

Percival smiled at him, his hold tightening around James’ waist before he helped the man into the passenger seat. “Thank you doctor, but we’ll be fine.” he said and closed the door before making his way to the driver’s side and he paused, then, and turned to the doctor. “I only wish that I can express to you how truly grateful I am, that you’ve taken care of him for me… when I couldn’t be there for him.”

The doctor shook his head and held his hand up, offering a small smirk, but his eyes were stern as he addressed the matter, “Nonsense. Just promise me you’ll make sure he lives a long, happy, healthy life with you and your daughter, and we’ll call it even.”

Percival let out a laugh then, carefree and truly happy, before nodding, “I promise.” he said, before getting into the car and they were off then.

-0-

The flight lasted what seemed like days to Percival, though he hardly cared as he watched his beloved sleep most of the way, only waking him for food, drink, and to help him take care of business. When they landed back in London, Percival grabbed a taxi and told the driver the address of their home, waiting with bated breath as he and James were taken there.

James was just as excited- though it was more languid than his own- as Percival to be back home, and he clung onto Percival with his only arm when they got out of the car, the taxi driving off after being paid the due amount.

“Dad!” Roxy came out the second Percival steadied James on the pathway towards the front door and the man froze, letting out a sharp breath when their daughter froze to the spot herself. Her eyes were wide before they suddenly filled with tears. “P-Papa…?” she choked out and Percival relaxed, watching with a tearful smile of his own when Roxy launched herself at them, clinging to James and Percival both, crying into James’ shirt. James himself was also crying, removing his arm from Percival and clinging instead to Roxy and he would’ve been unbalanced if it weren’t for Percival’s arms still around them both now.

“L-little… A-angel…” James breathed out, still stuttering, but Roxy didn’t care. “M-my little… l-little Angel…”

Leading his family inside, finally, Percival felt… weightless. His husband was back in his arms and their daughter was with them and it was… as it always was meant to be…  _ perfect _ .

Percival wouldn’t trade  _ that _ for anything in the world and he would sure as Hell do his damndest to make sure nothing- absolutely  _ nothing _ \- happened to either of them, ever again.


End file.
